Wake To The Light
by Dmarx
Summary: He's pretty sure he will never stop being amazed by her. Never. Spoilers for 4x23. Sequel: Every New Day.


_Summary: He's pretty sure he will never stop being amazed by her. Never. Spoilers for 4x23._

_Author's Note: Yes, it's another post Always fic. I know there are a gazillion of them out there but I couldn't help myself. I mean really, how could I watch that finale and NOT write about it? So here you have it. It's very fluffy._

_*Sorry about the multiple re-posts...apparently FF really didn't want you guys to read this last night. Hopefully third time's the charm.*_

_Disclaimer: Don't own them. And the title is borrowed from the lyrics to _Awakening _by _Celtic Woman.

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**Wake To The Light**

Amazing.

It is the only word Castle can find to describe the feeling of waking up like this. Waking up with her.

He is lying on his back, covers bunched down around his hips, and Kate is curled into his side, head resting on his chest. Her dark hair spills across his torso, her nose is buried in his skin, and one hand is draped across his waist while the other is trapped between their bodies, pressed against his side. Her hip is hitched over his thigh, leg wrapped around his beneath the blankets.

And she is naked.

Judging by the brightness outside, morning is well under way. Light is peeking through the blinds, casting a golden glow over the room, but Kate is still fast asleep, breathing deeply, exhaling warm against his skin. A ray of sunlight glints off of her eyelashes, nearly takes Castle's breath away, the way it enhances the delicacy of her features.

His one arm is trapped behind her, wrapped around her, fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin of her lower back, but he lifts the other hand to card through her hair, gently working out the tangles and massaging her scalp. She stirs beneath his touch, burrows further into him and his bed and his warmth.

He freezes, not wanting to wake her just yet, enjoying seeing her so relaxed and at peace, a stark contrast to the world that surrounds her every day.

Kate stirs again, lifts her head and sleepily opens one eye, then the other. It takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust but Castle can see in her face the moment they do.

"Morning," he murmurs softly, cupping the back of her head, holding her close. He is not even close to ready to lose the feeling of her pressed so intimately against him, wants to keep her here all day and all of tonight, too. Ah, hell, who is he kidding? He wants to keep her here forever.

She reaches out for him, traces the line of his jaw with her fingers as if to prove to herself that he is really there. That last night was real.

Oh, God, was it ever. So real. And so incredible.

"Hey," she says with a smile, blinking back the morning light. "Time's it?"

He shrugs. "After ten, probably."

Not surprising since they had been up until almost two and she had woken him again at about five a.m. for round three. Oh, god. The memory of being roused by her hands on his chest, lips caressing his, was forever seared into his mind. Rounds one and two had been amazing as they explored each other's bodies, made the other writhe and scream and moan (thank goodness Alexis was not home). But coming out of a very vivid dream to find her actually there touching him lifted round three to a whole new level of intensity.

And he had never felt more in love than when they fell over the edge together, dark eyes locked, just the faint glow of the city nightlife highlighting the contours of their faces, the lines and curves of their bodies. Kate is beautiful all the time but never more so than in the throes of passion, head back, mouth open, chest heaving, eyes flooded with love and lust. Not a lot is certain right now in their lives but Castle knows for sure that he will never be able to get enough of watching her fall apart, feeling her above him, beneath him, surrounding him.

He lifts his head, urges her up to his level. He needs to kiss her. Right now. He needs to kiss her and never, ever stop.

She comes without protest, meeting him in a gentle good-morning brush of the lips, so soft and tender that it just cannot actually be happening. Nothing can feel like this. And no one can make a single kiss so _good._ No one but her.

"Kate," he calls softly, awestruck.

It has not set in yet and he is not sure it ever will. They have not left his bedroom since seven o'clock last night, have not put on clothes, and have only severed contact to use the bathroom. It is so surreal. But even his most detailed dreams have never come anywhere close to this reality and that is the only way he is sure that this is really happening.

Her lips press against his again, warm and soft and gentle, and Castle wraps his arms around her waist, holds her tighter. She hisses in pain and breaks their kiss, lips parting from his on a surprised gasp.

He hastily pulls away, lifts up onto one elbow to search for the cause of her discomfort. "Kate?"

She mimics his position, uses her other hand to explore the area, gently putting pressure on her stomach and sides and hips. In the passion-induced haze of last night and the first minutes of this morning, she had all but forgotten about yesterday, her near-death experience, her resignation. But it is all coming crashing down on her now as she searches her body for bruises. She had taken quite a beating on that rooftop after all, and in retrospect it was a bit surprising that she had not been in pain last night.

"Are you hurt?" he asks softly as she prods her ribs, a tender spot on the left side making her flinch.

"Just a little bruised."

"Did I hurt you? Last night?" They certainly got carried away at times but he was relatively sure he had not been _that_ rough with her.

She shakes her head. "No."

"Then what?"

Kate curls her legs, pulling herself into a half-seated position on her side, still supported by the weight on her left elbow. She has not the slightest idea where to begin, how to explain everything, but they have tried the whole not being honest with each other thing and that did not go so well. And after everything they have been through, especially recently, she owes him the truth.

"I got in a fight."

"With who?"

"The sniper." She takes a deep breath, one hand unconsciously rising to her scar. "My sniper."

"You found him?"

"Accidentally. He got the drop on us in his hotel room. Esposito and me. I chased him up onto a rooftop and...we fought. It wasn't pretty."

"What happened?" An echo of his question from last night, but this time he needs more. Needs the whole story. As much as it pains him to think of her almost dying without him there, he needs to know.

Kate senses his need, gives him the slightly abridged version. He does not need to know exactly how many times she was kicked or thrown to the ground, or just how close she came to falling off that rooftop. But he needs to know exactly what it was that changed her mind, led her back to him.

"He kicked my gun from my hand, threw me around. Tried to strangle me and then tossed me over. I almost...I rolled over the edge."

Castle tenses, she sees his fist clench around a handful of bed sheets. "He threw you off a roof?"

She covers his hand with hers, pries apart his fingers and twines them with her own. "He tried. I caught myself but I was just hanging there."

"You..." Castle lifts their joined hands to swipe an errant tear from her cheek, all the while fighting back his own. "God, you almost...Kate."

"I know," she says softly, disengaging their hands and reaching out to run the pads of her fingers over his cheek, his jaw, his lips. "I know. It was awful."

"How did you...manage?"

"I thought...my fingers were slipping and I was screaming your name and all I could think about was that it couldn't end like that. Not after everything we'd been through together. Not after the way we left things." Another tear, another brush of his fingers. "And then I heard you calling my name and I knew that I had to hang on just a little bit longer because you were there and I'd be okay."

"But I wasn't." She can hear the pain in his voice, the guilt. Unfounded, because it was her own damn fault she was alone up there. "And I should have been."

"No." She shakes her head, needs to convince him of this. It is not his burden to bear. "No you shouldn't have been. I needed the kick in the ass of you walking away. I needed to be there alone to make me understand. And maybe it was selfish but I just...I realized that if I was going to die, I didn't want to be alone. I wanted you by my side. Without you there it was...nothing else mattered."

"Who...?" he asks after a few seconds.

"Ryan." She sighs heavily. It is all starting to catch up with her now, her decisions and strung out emotions tumbling down around her. "But I thought it was you. And I just wanted to see your face and tell you I was sorry and just...but it wasn't you. And that was all I could think about."

They fall silent, digesting, letting it soak in and take hold.

"What about the case?" he asks tentatively after a couple minutes.

She meets his eyes, her own tinted with fear of the unknown future that stretches before her. Before them. "I don't know."

"He's still out there."

She nods. "He is."

"And you really don't care that he got away?"

"No." Kate cups his jaw, fingers toying with the shell of his ear. "I never even considered going after him. Not after that."

"And then you came here?"

Her hand falls to the bed heavily in anticipation of explaining the part of yesterday that she really does not want to think about right now. "Not exactly."

Castle raises one eyebrow, even sexier than usual when he is all rumpled and sleepy and naked. She smiles briefly before returning to the story.

"Gates was there with Ryan. On the roof."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"What did she say?"

"She was pissed," Kate admits. "Really pissed. Espo is suspended for lying and withholding evidence."

"What about you?"

Her eyes flick away from his, down to her fingertips, still raw from hanging onto concrete for dear life. When their gazes meet again his is worried, scared, eyes more grey than blue.

"I, um, resigned."

"You...resigned?"

The word sounds foreign to them both, feels bitter as it leaves her tongue.

Kate nods slowly, still not quite sure what that means for her beyond the confines of Castle's bed, his loft. She has been a Detective for most of her adult life. Now, she has no idea who she is or what she stands for.

"Why?"

"For the same reason that I showed up at your doorstep, Castle. The same reason that I held onto the edge of that roof longer than I thought I could. It wasn't so I could get back up and go after him. That thought never even crossed my mind. It was so I could see you again."

He takes a deep breath, releases it slowly. "And now?"

"I don't want to keep chasing this thing," she assures him, resting one hand on his chest directly over his heart. She still has not said the words but maybe this will help him understand that she feels it too. She almost said them last night in the heat of the moment but stopped herself just in time. She loves him. She does. So much. But she wants to feel a little more upright, a little less like her world has just been turned on its axis before crossing that barrier.

"I don't want to die for this," she continues softly, nuzzling her nose into his. "I don't want my life to be defined by this case anymore. I just want to live."

She closes the remaining distance between them, kisses him deeply, pulls away only long enough to whisper two final words.

"With you."

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**THE END**

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_Thoughts?_


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